


I’m Not Perfect (But I’m Perfect For You)

by heartlikethat



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: And Chaos!, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26921245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartlikethat/pseuds/heartlikethat
Summary: Zoey has a question to ask Max, but the night Does. Not. Go. According. To. Plan.
Relationships: Zoey Clarke/Max Richman
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	I’m Not Perfect (But I’m Perfect For You)

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooooo there! Once again, a line from _The Office_ has inspired me.
> 
> A character from my one fic, Living In Color, makes an appearance, but you don’t need to read that for this to make sense. Basically what I’m trying to say is if that character seems familiar, well that’s why lol.
> 
> Like all things I write, I wrote this quickly and with very little editing.

“Mo! I need your help zipping up this dress! Max will be here any minute!” Zoey was pounding frantically on his door, which perfectly matched the pounding of her heart as she tried (and failed miserably) to remain calm.

Because calm, cool, collected? Zoey Clarke was not (had never been) a single one of those things. Today was no exception.

When the door swung open, Mo took one look at Zoey, taking note of the pale pink dress that accentuated her curves, the sleek curls of her normally wild hair, and the application of makeup that drew attention to her eyes and lips.

“So, it’s happening tonight.” It was a statement, not a question.

“It is,” Zoey confirmed as she turned around so Mo could access the zipper and secure her into the dress.

“Would you like a Xanax? I’m having a difficult time trying to zip you up when you’re trembling harder than an earthquake.”

“Ha ha,” Zoey responded, spinning back around to face her friend. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I mean...I know it’s the right decision, it’s the right time, it’s the right person. I’ve done the research, I’ve thought about every possible outcome, and all the signs are pointing to ‘yes’...so why is my heart beating so fast?”

“It’s a real mystery,” Mo deadpanned.

Before Zoey had a chance to ask Mo exactly what he meant by that, the sound of footsteps could be heard echoing loudly in the building and a few moments later, Max appeared on the landing, looking surprised to see them both standing there in the hallway.

“Hey Mo, hey Zoey...” he stopped talking the moment Zoey pivoted on her heel and he caught a full glimpse of his girlfriend, his jaw falling to the floor as he was rendered speechless.

“ _Wow_ ,” he finally breathed, bridging the gap between them and pulling her into his arms, smiling as he leaned down to kiss her. “You are so beautiful. I’m a very lucky man.”

“Hey, play your cards right and you might get _real_ lucky tonight,” Zoey gave him a coy smile, enjoying the fleeting respite from her anxiety as she melted into his embrace.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mo retreating into his apartment. “Nearly two years later and you two are still just as nauseating. Do me a favor...take it back to Max’s apartment tonight. These walls are too damn thin and not even my noise canceling headphones can drown you out!”

* * *

So. 

Dinner was a disaster.

In her haste to gulp down some wine with the hope it would quell her nerves (or give her liquid courage or just...do _something_ , at least), she knocked over the glass, spilling its contents all over a poor, unsuspecting Max. And _of course_ it was red wine because if Zoey was going to make a mess of things, she might as well do it thoroughly.

Max took the whole incident in stride, chuckling at what an adorable little klutz she was, even as she apologized profusely and looked like she was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown.

“They’re just clothes, Zo, it’s really not a big deal. And honestly, I think the whole outfit looks better this way,” he reassured her.

However, when her face remained panic-stricken, those words failing to give her any semblance of solace, he forged a new tactic. “Even though it’s completely unnecessary, if you absolutely feel like you have to make it up to me somehow...” he leaned across the table, gesturing for her to do the same so he could murmur in her ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin, “then you can do so by helping me get out of these stained clothes later.”

The warmth of his breath and the implication behind his words caused her shudder as she swallowed thickly, nodding her head as she wholeheartedly agreed to those terms.

Zoey felt (marginally) better after that, but her palms continued to sweat and her heart was still running rampant in her chest as she tried to force down her food when it arrived a few minutes later.

* * *

She managed to survive the rest of dinner without further making a complete and total fool of herself (although she did trip over her own feet when they were on their way out, but _that_ was nothing new for Zoey, the walking human disaster).

So.

Things were good. _They were great_. Everything was back on track. Zoey never once had any intention of asking Max her question over dinner, anyway. It was too public with too many prying eyes where there would no doubt be applause and the spotlight centered on them (all things Zoey was decidedly not a fan of).

No. 

She had formed her plan weeks ago, when she first heard the news there would be a record breaking meteor shower, a once in a lifetime event (or once every 43 years, at any rate). It was a moment they’d never forget, a moment they could share together in private. She couldn’t think of a more _perfect_ time to pop the question (yes, _that_ question).

Because Zoey was _ready_ to be the one doing the grand gesture for a change. Max had organized the flash mob to profess his love to her. For their one year anniversary, he had written and performed a song for her on the piano. She loved it so much, she made him play it again (although the second rendition was definitely _less_ of him playing the piano and _more_ of him doing things to her while she was naked on top of the piano).

Zoey loved Max for all of his epic, thoughtful, truly top-notch displays and declarations of love (even if the flash mob did make her slightly uncomfortable...that was more to do with the fact she didn’t want to confront her own feelings). 

This time, she wanted to be the one to sweep Max off his feet. And the best part? He didn’t suspect a thing.

They had eaten a late dinner, so it was approaching 10 o’clock by the time Zoey led Max to the secluded spot at the park she had scouted out last week. There was no way they’d be interrupted or overhead here, Zoey thought as she laid down the multitude of blankets she had brought for comfort.

As she laid there, her head on Max’s chest, waiting for the meteor shower to begin, she took a deep breath. “Hey, Max? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything,” he murmured as his fingers were stroking her hair.

She tilted her head so she could peer at his face and her breath hitched when their eyes met, Max giving her that soft look of love that was meant just for her, only ever just for her. “Let me preface this by saying how much I—”

“ _Zoey Clarke?_ Is that you?”

 _Oh no._ Zoey recognized that voice. She propped herself up on her elbows and... _oh shit_ , she recognized that face, too.

_Jason Simmons._

Her ex-boyfriend and the longest relationship she had ever been in (current company excluded, of course).

Max had once referred to her past relationships as ‘unnecessarily complicated, exhausting for everybody, the opposite of good,’ and Jason very much embodied every single aspect of that sentiment. Zoey had once believed she’d marry Jason (oh, to be young, dumb, and in love) before she was blindsided by him breaking up with her because she was ‘too smart’ for him after six months of dating.

“Um, hey Jason. It’s...” _good to see you? Ha, if that wasn’t the biggest lie._ “It’s been awhile.”

“It sure has,” Jason glanced over at Max, a smile lighting up his face, “oh, Mac, right? It’s nice to see that you’re both still such good friends after all these years.”

“Actually, _Max_ and I, we’re da—” Zoey started to say, but stopped abruptly once Jason plopped down on the blanket with them.

_What...the fuck?_

“Yeah, so here’s the thing,” Jason began speaking without preamble, “I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching lately, thinking about my past and my regrets...and my biggest regret is that I let you go. And I’ve been wandering around, thinking about you for weeks and then, just now, I look over and there you are...right in front me! I mean, that has _got_ to be fate working its hand here, right? Like what are the odds that we would run into each other tonight?” He looked at her expectantly, clearly very excited about the whole kismet situation he thought was occurring here.

“Uh...” _what the fuck, what the fuck, what the actual fuck?_ “I’m kinda seeing someone...”

“Oh.” Jason looked positively baffled by that information before his whole face and mood deflated in defeat. “Who is it? Is it serious?”

Zoey shared a look with Max, who was doing his best to muffle his laughter by disguising it as a cough. She remembered Jason wasn’t _the smartest_ , but she never remembered him being this stupid and oblivious.

“Yeah, I’d say it’s very serious.”

“Okay, Zoey, give it to me straight. Should I hold out any hope that you might one day change your mind?”

“No,” Zoey shook her head at Jason before directing her attention over to Max, locking eyes with him as she said the next part. “This person...he’s definitely it for me and I can say, with absolute certainty, that I won’t be changing my mind.”

* * *

So.

Zoey never did ask Max her question during the meteor shower. Once Jason left them alone, the two of them had a good laugh over the bizarre turn of events, but it didn’t feel _quite right_ to propose the idea of marriage after just running into one of her ex-boyfriends.

Surely, there would be another once in a lifetime event soon so Zoey could put her plan into action.

However, she did fulfill her two promises of the evening to Max — after shedding him of his clothes that were stained with wine, she enthusiastically showed him just how lucky he was (Max, of course, showed her just how lucky she was in return).

“Hey, Zo? Now would be a good time to ask me that question.” Max spoke quietly as they laid facing each other in bed, their bodies tangled together. Zoey stiffened in his arms. This was _so not_ how she envisioned it. “O-oh...uh...I don’t think _now_ is actually the best time. Maybe like another day or...I don’t know, next we—”

“My answer is yes.”

Zoey gave him a skeptical look before letting out a small laugh of disbelief. “You don’t even know what the question is.”

“Oh, so you weren’t going to ask me to marry you today?”

_So much for Max not suspecting anything._

Zoey didn’t deny it, she just stared at Max, dumbfounded. “W-wha...how did you...?”

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re not very subtle. You’ve been humming ‘Marry You’ for weeks. I never knew you were such a Bruno Mars fan,” he teased, kissing her forehead, her nose, stopping at her lips.

“It’s very catchy,” she mumbled, smiling against his mouth.

“So, are you going to ask me or not? I’ve been waiting patiently all night.”

“Well...this isn’t _exactly_ how I pictured it. I wanted it to be a moment we’d never forget. I wanted it to be perfect.”

A smile stretched across Max’s face as he brought his hand up to cradle her face. “I don’t know, you and me together like this, it feels pretty perfect to me,” he said softly, leaning forward to capture her lips in a kiss. 

Pulling away so she could meet his gaze, she finally did ask the question she’d been trying to get out all night. “Will you marry me?”

“Absolutely I will,” he kissed her again. “Would you like your ring now or later?”

“What ring?”

“Your engagement ring,” he said simply before rolling his eyes at her and adding “obviously” with a goofy grin on his face.

“When did you...?” Zoey trailed off, watching as Max climbed out of bed and lifted the fake potted fern that had resided on his dresser for years, the bottom hollowed out, to reveal a black ring box. “How long has that been there?”

“Almost two years,” he held up the box in triumph, “I bought it a week after we started dating.”

Zoey was flummoxed, so many questions bouncing around her head as Max slid the ring onto her finger, pressing a kiss to her palm.

“Okay, serious question...should I go with Maxwell Richman-Clarke or just take your name entirely?” He jokingly asked as she stared in awe at the ring he had picked out _two years_ ago. It took a second for his question to register in her mind, but once it did, she burst out laughing. 

“Max!”

“Yeah, you’re right. Maxwell Clarke it is.”

“You’re such a dork,” Zoey teased as she climbed on top of him, grabbing his face in her hands before she bent down to give him a lingering kiss. “I love you, too,” his words were muffled by his refusal to break off the kiss for even a second, holding his fiancée tight against him.


End file.
